Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid. He’d been working on a screenplay for weeks. Then, a crushing rejection email. He’d just sent a text to his agent: “This town is a joke. I’m done.” He meant to text his friend, Mark, but a fat finger had instead selected his grandmother’s number. He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. He quickly retyped a different message for Mark, a rant about the email, and then he texted his grandmother an apology. He didn't want to explain his foul mood to her.